Withered White

Withered white turns yellow 
With barely any pink left on the petals 
Attached to a stem 
Rotting
Ashes at the bottom of this vase 
No longer living 

For the moment of truth has arrived 
But I missed the train homeward bound
So here I sit in my hotel room
Smoking a pack of death 
Drinking ten cups of dead 
Hopefully to wake up in time to play
Hide and seek with the mouse 

In the wall of famous dead people 
All walking around in my head space.